She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. He continued his ditty, in spite of the angry glances of his leader. She wanted to scream, but there was no one to scream for. He looked melancholy enough, it is true. The little pucker in her brows became more perceptible. Somewhere, where we can talk without interruption. And here are these places, full of contagion! “Of course, this is the real texture of life, this is what we refined secure people forget.
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